Thursday, 24 May 2012

Gish Gallop’s Gladly, Glibly Gestated Gullibility

One
of my greatest pleasures is the discovery that I’m wrong. It’s a liberating
experience, a reminder that knowledge is both a motorway and a cul de sac. Tolkien
said, ‘the road goes ever on and on’.
For me, the road is discovery. Certainty is a dead end.

Jelly babies are what I miss most as about being vegetarian. There are no meat
free alternatives that give the flavour and texture that I once enjoyed whilst
pondering which colour to eat first, whether to decapitate or amputate its
legs. See me lingering by supermarket sweets: it’s a safe bet that I’m reading
ingredients to see if beef gelatine has been replaced by a viable alternative. Many
would suggest that I stop being a veggie. In some ways they’re right: there are sound
moral reasons to eat meat.

How does this connect to the Gish Gallop? Why do I accuse its proponents of
being gladly glib? In what manner does
it gestate gullibility?

Born in 1921, the eponymous Professor Duane Gish is the youngest of nine
children and was a biochemist. I’m not touching on his opinions as it’s enough
to say that Gish has an entertaining internet presence. Nor am I accusing him
of dishonesty or insincerity; merely criticising his dubious debating strategy
that is honed for ignorant propaganda instead of promoting education. This
arrogant method claims certainty, thereby undermining its own assertions.

The best debates are both entertaining and educational opportunities for the
audience to learn about the subject and scrutinise skilfully developed
thoughtful arguments.

The arena of a formal debate has a statement that is ‘proposed’ by one side and
‘opposed’ by the other. A poll may be taken to establish any polarity of opinion
before discussions begin. Within a predetermined time limit, each participant
has opportunity to put their case forward. A shorter period is allowed for responses
or expanded arguments. Often there will be audience questions before a vote is
taken. This determines who wins the debate.

At school, I learnt that a good debater would be competent at presenting either
side of the proposal. I could present either view with the proposal ‘Vegetarianism is the only moral choice,’ despite
not being persuaded by it.

In putting my argument forward, I’d define vegetarian,
moral and diet, then explain any
premise of my standpoint and present a small number of facts or examples from
which my conclusions follow. I’d expect, or hope, that my opponent would
demonstrate similar deference to the subject and our audience whilst being
vigorous and honest in their presentation. Neither of us would obfuscate.

There are a number of ways in which I could show contempt for, or distrust of
my audience. One underhand game plan would be that for which Duane Gish is
famed, a cowardly method because it distorts the lens of scrutiny
that is the event’s purpose.

Can you count, let alone give a considered response to, all the points within
that diatribe? I counted thirty one and, despite being its author, would be
challenged to respond.

Several items on the list scream out for clarification of their meaning or
relevance to the topic. The second law of thermodynamics refers to increasing
disorder within ‘closed systems’
more commonly known as entropy. In the
context of the proposal, it’s a colourless herring, included only so that its
stench can befuddle the opponent and, more disappointingly, misdirect or
confuse the audience. There are at least two layers of ignorance in such a method: the Galloper’s
lack of knowledge and its implicit rudeness.

Consider how you would craft a courteous response to such a rant. Even if you’d
prepared for, or had prior understanding of, each point much of your time would
be consumed by addressing them all in a robust manner. The Gallop’s capacity to snare or trip an
opponent is something the wise debater will be ready for, but I’ll explain why
I describe the Gish Gallop as ‘gladly
glib’, first.

If I talk with you about jelly babies, you’ll sacrifice my respect if you go
into a Gish Gallop.

Is it a cliché to observe that the person pointing one finger has three others
directed back at them?

The Gish Gallop aims to drown the opponents’ presentation or argument in a
‘perfect storm’. It’s a theatrical
device applied to intellectual endeavour. To avoid being exposed and the
Galloper's case floundering, its forceful delivery is crucial. Therefore the
Galloper often calls on their charisma or stage presence to perform the role of
contented satisfaction in their arguments. They imply their opponent is
ill-equipped, under-prepared or otherwise beyond hope of winning the day.

This is why we see the ‘Gish Gallop
Gladly, Glibly’ presented to the audience. Let us not mistake it for anything
other than the mask it is. If the Galloper’s case were of any substance this
intellectually redundant device would not be in their arsenal.

The last element of my title is a bold claim. I’m contesting that those who are
duped into credulity for the Galloper’s argument will be misinformed.

My reasoning is that accepting a flawed method of critical thinking will
inevitably undermine competency in other spheres where a clear mind is
necessary. There are a number of arenas in which the Gish Gallop is used as a
marketing tool. Astrology, for example, is wholly disconnected from the
disciplines our species needs to cross the road, negotiate a peace or design
space craft explorations. Similarly, advertising that includes statutory claims
proceeds to undermine reason with clouded arguments or misrepresented facts.
How often do we see products eulogised by photoshopped beauties above
small-print disclaimers beginning ‘seventeen out of nineteen women’?

When we allow the Gish Gallop to go unchallenged, un-exposed, we are degrading
our own capacity to evaluate, we have ‘Gestated
Gullibility.’

Just as you and I would respond with anger if someone tipped rubbish on our
living room carpet, we would be wise to contest those who’d deliver trash into
the only place where we can, and do, truly exist: our brains.

We travel through life on the wide, illuminated motorway of our thoughts. It’s
here that we experience everything; all our pleasures and sorrows, expectations:
positive and otherwise. Why would we drive ourselves into the narrow cul de sac
of arrogant certainty that won’t allow itself reasoned enquiry?

Whether the Gish Gallop is used by ignorance, incompetence or malice, any
assertions that we accept as a result may gestate into broader gullibility that
constricts. More importantly we risk such buffoonery stifling the minds of
those we care for or rely upon: our loved ones, oncologists, statesmen,
national treasures like the polymath Stephen Fry.

The Gish Gallop is a tool for those who claim certainty against evidence, seek
community in ignorance and shut their minds to the beauty of reality.

The Gish Gallop is the sign at the end of the cul de sac.

One question remains. How do I respond to the Gish Gallop?

There was a debate at BirminghamUniversity. Both speakers
were courteous and seemingly well informed: not least because such events are
part of their professional roles.

I went because I like to gain new insights into views I don’t share. It’s
uplifting. Quickly, it was apparent that a Galloper was in the room. It’s hard
to find intellectual substance amidst diatribe, so I learnt far less than I
would if he’d argued without such posturing.

Later, I contacted the Galloper to be told ‘you
don’t understand’. Where was his concern for the audience’s welfare? Why
was he taking part if he didn’t want to share or expand understanding? It’s his
job to explain!
I respond to the Gish Gallop, especially when ridden in public, with enquiry:
forthright, clear and confrontational if necessary. The only time I don’t expose is if I’m with
someone who’d be embarrassed. I see myself as duty bound to challenge the
Galloper in the same way as I confront litter bugs, vandals, smokers and other
thugs.

I choose to ask the question: ‘what do
you believe and why?’ Sadly, the Galloper rarely responds with courtesy,
data, explanation or understanding.

This blog post was contributed by Birmingham Skeptics in the Pub regular Rich Wiltshir (@richwiltshir)

1 comment:

Nice one, Richard - an interesting read. :-)I'd never heard the term "Gish Gallop" before but certainly recognise the signature of bundling red herrings into a discourse whose only purpose is to confuse, conflate and obfuscate. I think I'm canny enough to spot such underhand tactics, and would be immediately antagonistic towards someone using them, but I can certainly see how the unwary could be guiled... :-\

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